Day 4

Pamplona – Puente la Reina

23.8km/14.79 miles

I am proud of myself to have not let the thought of home consume me yet.  I am surprised at how good I really am on my own.  Missing home comes and I let it go quickly.  I know I can’t let any thought linger too long, since being here is why I am here.

How quickly each day fades into the past.  I can barely remember where I was the day before.   It’s no wonder since I am only in one place long enough to learn how to pronounce the village name: Puente la Reina, Zubiri, Roncesvalles…

Walking does not seem to be getting any easier.  Each morning I am reminded of the relentless throbbing in my feet.   I sleep with an eye mask since most nights it is still light when I go to bed and ironically dark when I wake.  It’s a good morning if I happened to sleep the night through with out losing an ear plug; the most precious item in my pack.  I sometimes forget why my feet feel stiff, like wooden boards that have not been moved in years.  For a moment I am back home in my comfy king sized bed.  I anticipate seeing my loved ones.  Suddenly the memory of where I am, how much I walked the day before and how much I still have to walk surfaces.

Today’s walk is through endless open fields of swaying grass.  I never know what the walk will be like.  A mountain pass lined with giant sized windmills is ahead in the distance.  I’m amazed at how much you can accomplish in 1 day.  The pass that once seemed so far away, soon behind me within a couple of hours.

A routine is absolutely necessary in this type of experience.  It’s the force that keeps a man going.  He shovels pile after pile of coal,  tired and dirty, into a fire that can fuel a locomotive.  Without it, there is no train.

Missing Home

I talk to my dad for the first time on the phone today.  I have been updating my loved ones every day.  Most days I am up in the morning and get done walking 15+ miles to find America is still sleeping.  I patiently wait each day for signs of life to share my stories and send my love.  I am missing home more than ever today.

There is more time than I know what to do with.  I often get done walking by 1pm, on a good day, and have the rest of the afternoon for myself.  Nothing to do but shower, hand wash my clothes and dinner for one.  I haven’t talked to many people today and have not really found anyone I really connect with.  Before I left my friend wrote me letters for in case I needed a laugh, wanted to quit or if I missed home.  I miss home today and especially my boyfriend.  I think about opening a letter, but decide to save it for a day when I really need it.

Reflection, meditation, people watching and exploring the village and cathedral occupies the remainder of my day before I am too exhausted to take another step.